In A Heartbeat
by Aero-Cluster
Summary: —because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima

**A/N**: I've decided to write another story and it's a pretty sensitive subject and at the same time, an interesting topic to delve in. Mind you I am not doing this to discriminate, blame, go against, convict, condemn—and whatnot— anyone from any race or religion. The plot itself is purely fictitious as it centers around fictional characters, but the places, dates and other historical events are based on the truth. I do not intend to sugarcoat what happened during those times but rather I want to present something which could be understood by everyone and at some decent point—for entertainment.

**Rated T for: **Violence, racism/discrimination (for the plot alone), death (at some point). Rating may go up depending on how I deliver the situations but for now, it will be as is.

**Things you might need to know before reading:****  
****Auschwitz-(place in Poland)**concentration camp/extermination camp, divided into three main camps the base camp, extermination camp and labor camp

**Birkneau-**extermination camp

**Monowitz-**labor camp

**SS/Schutzstaffel-**military org under Hitler/Nazi in charge of the camp

On with the story then :D

* * *

**In A Heartbeat****  
**—because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU

**Fatal Encounter**

_Late November 1941_

He pulled out a cigarette stick from his breast pocket and flicked the lighter to ignite a small spark. The nicotine and smoke sending comfort and heat surging through his body almost immediately; he stared at the sky and watched the frozen, solid white pellets fall like ashes, piling up unevenly around the whole campsite. He crushed the remains of his cigarette after a few quick puffs with his combat boots and the seemingly foreign material blended well with the snow as they both appeared a shade darker than white.

He wearily sighed and ruffled his ultramarine locks to rid of the snow that gathered on top of his head. The fully-dressed and operational soldier turned on his heel and headed towards the compound where hundreds of innocent souls were tortured. A stoic expression was plastered on his face as the same coldness remained present in his eyes.

_Time to get back to work._

The halls inside of Auschwitz reeked with the heavy scent of death and torment. He'd gotten so used to it that the smell was almost welcoming; it was amazing how the young man could withstand something so gruesome and dreadful. The scenario itself was also a faint and suffocating reminder that he was a German SS officer that contributed greatly for cleaning and ridding the world of its Jewish impurities.

He reached a certain sector in the building and smiled at the rising excitement and vigor flowing in his veins.

Block Eleven.

This was where he relished the harmonious sounds of agony and pain—the cries of anguish and choir of pleas and screams.

A sweet, sweet lullaby.

He settled for a particular spot on the section with a solid steel door. The blue-haired man slid the small steel window of a metal door, allowing only his hunter green eyes to pierce into the darkness. The room is small, tight and sealed, apart from the tiny opening he had provided.

"What is your name?" a low and cool voice asked and a figure shifted slightly from the foreign sound. The clank of iron was a sign that the person inside the cramped space was bound in chains, and handcuffed to the wall.

A hoarse sound broke out from the prisoner's lips who apparently knew the dialect that the high-ranked officer used.

"S-Simon…" his bleak tone and horrid coughs told the German that he wasn't going to last much longer.

His deathly sea green eyes and partly visible red tattoo lit up with amusement as a wonderful idea crossed his mind. The German SS fished for the metal lighter in his pocket and admired the soft flares of the tiny flame. He crumpled a few sheets of paper that were inside his double-breasted coat—supposedly written reports—engulfed them in flames and tossed them inside the sealed chamber and nonchalantly whispered to the dying captive.

"Auf wiedersehen, Simon."

The fire danced as it gobbled up the remaining ounce of his oxygen. Simon hacked as he tried his best to get on his feet and extinguish the fire as soon as possible, but the way he was strapped and bound to the wall made all his efforts futile; soon he found himself choking and gasping for precious air. The last thing he saw was the blurred image of the firelight before his body slumped lifeless on the hard, steel floor.

The ruthless and impervious officer turned to a soldier who was obviously on duty.

"Dispose his body." he first stiffened at the command of his superior before complying with his order. He stood rigidly in place and saluted the blue-haired demon.

"Ja! Captain Jellal Fernandes!"

_Early January 1944_

Two years. That's how long he had been serving and aiding Germany in war and killing thousands of their enemies who dared to go against the Führer. Jellal Fernandes, who in the preceding years was only coined as captain was now promoted as major of the Schutzstaffel. He craved for the position so badly. He _craved _for power so desperately—just so he could protect the ones he loved at the expense of others. He really didn't care much about the prisoners of war, or the deaths of the innocent majority. He cared less about that, in fact their deaths meant the safety of his dear ones and it fueled him to keep on going. He willingly sold his soul to the devil just to keep his loved ones safe from harm.

"Ah Jellal." a low voice greeted the blue-haired man who apparently snapped out of his reverie.

"Laxus." it came out as dull and distant, but was enough to pass on as a greeting.

"I have to report to the higher-ups. And since you're already here, why don't you take charge?" the burly blond pulled out a tobacco stick and placed it between his lips before continuing. "Zero's pretty busy dealing with bodies in the morgue, and between you and Zancrow, I really prefer you over that sadistic arsch."

"You and I are equals." the lean soldier pointed out; his tone was cold but never sinister.

"I know, I know." the scar-faced officer raised his hands up in defeat but still tried to convince the uninterested comrade. "It wasn't even an order. It was a request." The playful features of the blond officer turned serious and almost sullen—and guilty?

"If I leave this to Zero, he'd probably experiment on everyone and Zancrow might kill everyone without even sorting the prisoners out. At least between the four of us, we both still got our humanity intact. Fairly loose, but still there." he puffed out a ring of smoke and faced him. The look on the ultramarine's face was unreadable, but he could see the faintest hint of realization on the tattooed and stoic façade he had.

"Fine…" he merely replied and ultimately got a huge slap on the back from his fellow soldier.

"I'll be going then." Jellal merely gave a curt nod and the moment Laxus headed out, the sound of the train signaled the arrival of the captives—who were usually Polish Jew civilians—a bunch of criminals and some others who were randomly turned in by the Nazi soldiers. The large group was contained on the cold fields of Auschwitz lined up and surrounded by the Wehrmacht dressed in their winter uniforms.

Jellal viewed them as tiny little ants gathered up all in one place, the grim lines returning eventually on the contours of his face. The blue-haired officer couldn't help but wonder why he felt excited and gloomy at the same time. It was a horrible combination of emotions; it was like fire and ice, water and oil. He vaguely remembered what Laxus had said.

_We still got our humanity. Fairly loose, but still there._

He bitterly smiled at himself at the event that had happened two years ago when he mercilessly killed a chained man, slaughtered hundreds of prisoners by any means necessary and tortured thousands of innocent civilians through forced labor. Jellal donned his crusher cap and immediately made his way out of the building.

He did all those inhumane acts for the sake of his loved ones—for the sake of protecting them, but he knew he was anything but human anymore.

* * *

The field was an absolute frozen wasteland and Jellal could feel his fingertips freezing even with his thick gloves on. He signaled the soldiers to start the selection because the sooner his work finished, the sooner he could go back to Monowitz and the sooner he could warm up in his barracks.

As expected, the selection went fast and fluid. He expertly sorted the ones who were capable from those who were beyond help. It was when a sudden change in the line caught the blue-haired officer's attention. A scrawny looking guy cut his way through the rest, only to complain to the sergeant administering the list of captives. His pleas came out like a broken mantra in a foreign dialect that left the army furrowing their brows in confusion.

The man's desperate cries were replaced by horrifying screams from the prisoners when a deafening sound of a gunshot shattered the rising commotion on the open field. The body of the Polish man fell heavily on the snowy ground. The bullet buried deep within his skull and a lush, rich vermillion flowed out generously, melting the snow at the sudden contact and painting a lively color on the dull surroundings.

"Scheißkerl." a low and menacing voice sent the crowd whimpering in fear that even Jellal's fellow soldiers had gone rigid from his sudden outburst.

_We still got our humanity. Fairly loose, but still there._

"Those who dare speak a word shall answer to this!"

The tattooed high-ranked SS held his revolver high enough to be in level with his chest to fairly emphasize his point. He pulled the trigger once again, sending a Polish citizen crippling to the floor.

"That one goes to Birkneau. He's useless now." he barked at the soldier who was recording to fill in the list.

_We still got our humanity. Fairly loose, but still there._

"And anyone who dares to fight back shall die. Like this!"

Another bullet sent a body thumping hard on the ground, ridding the target of its life.

_We still got our humanity._

"My, my. As ruthless as ever eh, Major?" a shady looking man with bloodshot eyes appeared behind Jellal and the foot soldiers gave a quick salute to another highly respectable person that had joined them on the field of the base camp.

"Zero." the loathe in the ultramarine's voice was evident, indirectly stating that he didn't like the surgeon to join him.

"Why don't you get back to your camp and I'll take—"

"I'm in charge here." he lowly growled at the old man and glared at him with burnt olive orbs, flaring with hate and disgust.

_Fairly loose, but still there._

The surgeon raised his hands defensively and shrugged.

"Tasks aside, the Lieutenant Colonel would be visiting Monowitz. Did you forget?"

Jellal uttered a string of curses for forgetting such an important occasion and rubbed his temple to ease the tension that had already built up. He reached for the pocket watch inside his double breasted coat and sighed in defeat.

"Understood. I leave them in your capable hands." he stressed the word 'capable' just to warn him about going for his fatal attractions and fetishes. Jellal was practically glad that his anger was dissipating with every passing second, thanking the negative temperature that played its part of cooling his head. He wearily sighed as he remembered Laxus' words once again.

_We still got our humanity. Fairly loose, but still there._

He was now sure that what little he had left of it was now gone.

* * *

He made it safely back to his camp and from there on out, he busied himself with loads of reports and private sessions with the Lieutenant Colonel. It didn't take and consume most of his time as he had expected, so he decided to make the remaining hours of the day worthwhile by doing something progressive.

"Private," he called to the startled soldier who responded with another salute. "How much more time do we have before the new set of laborers come?"

"An hour sir." the young man merely answered as his commanding officer made no hesitation to tell him his motive.

"I'll take over. You get your rest for now." Without another word, the soldier didn't argue and left the clipboard onto the hands of his officer clearly gratified.

* * *

The prisoners assigned to Monowitz mostly consisted of bulky men and a few healthy women who headed for the labor camp's entrance. Jellal eventually started listing their names alphabetically as he asked each one of them for information.

"Name?"

"Erza."

It was a female's voice. A smooth and virile voice as the ultramarine would have coined. He lifted his head, apparently intrigued by the tone.

The first thing that registered to mind was the color of her hair. It was the same color that haunted him every night, the same hue that was ever present on the battlefield, the same shade that smeared and tainted his whole being, the same tinge that plagued his years of existence.

Scarlet.

"Surname?" he shook his head as his thoughts got derailed in a split second of the sudden flashback.

"I have none." her reply came out clipped and laced with fury. It wouldn't take a genius to tell that the woman had deep hatred for the man in front of him. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if she would admit that she hated every single pet of the Nazi in the whole vicinity.

Jellal tapped the pen on the wooden clipboard and glanced at her. His eyes widened when she inexplicably bared her neck to him, pointing at her throat and taunting him to bury the bullet of his revolver into her system. Instead of drawing his gun and sending her to the gates of hell, he kept his cold and intimidating façade, making the red tattoo on his cheek prominent and glow in the icy snowfields.

"Number?" he asked, this time holding her gaze.

"19526."

He motioned her to join the rest of the workers and she silently passed by him. His shamrock eyes followed her figure blatantly until she made it to her destination. He stared at the numbers long and hard after she disappeared and smiled to himself. It was a long, long time since he smiled genuinely and sincerely like this. He was glad that he hadn't done it. He didn't pull the trigger. He didn't plunge a bullet into her neck. He didn't kill her. And he was instantly overjoyed and confused at himself at the same time, because for the first time ever, this was the closest he got to understanding and knowing himself.

_We still got our humanity. Fairly loose, but still there._

Prisoner 19526 Erza.

He frowned instantaneously when he thought he would have a problem with the alphabetically arranged list, seeing that she didn't have a last name. He could have them arranged at chronological order but that would take too much of his precious time. He sighed in frustration for the mistake that he failed to foresee. He closed his eyes, and tapped on irritably to signal the next prisoner.

* * *

When he finished recording all of the captives' information he settled to take a quick break inside his barracks.

"Prisoner 19526," he muttered to himself. "Erza."

He could still recall the woman who was either too stupid or brave enough to challenge him of all people.

"What am I going to do with you?" he smirked at the still present problem he had at hand when he suddenly thought of a brilliant idea. He quickly grabbed the paper that held the important data and let his fountain pen work its magic through the smooth surface of the filled sheet.

He admired how his calligraphy made the letters come alive.

**_Erza Scarlet, Prisoner 19526._**

_Scarlet._

That way he wouldn't forget.

_Scarlet._

The color of her hair.


	2. Chapter 2

**In A Heartbeat****  
**—because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU

**Fake Symphony**

_He didn't kill me._

And the thought itself was enough to drive her mad from just delving too much on it. She expected him to kill her right on the spot; the very moment she failed to give a proper response, but he didn't. And she couldn't help but wonder why.

_Was it because he's different compared to those bloodthirsty, heartless, psychotic German bastards?_ She dismissed the thought immediately. After all, she had clearly seen how the blue-haired demon shot three Polish captives without a moment's hesitation and second thoughts. So why would—rather, why _did_ he spare her? A woman of no value in society and an inferior being no less? She ran her long fingers through her auburn hair and sighed.

_No, I'm thinking too much. He's no different from the rest because he's a German. A German military scumbag._

She focused on what she was doing right now and instead of having her mind occupied by the said soldier whose actions were nonetheless inexcusable and incomprehensible, she worked her way through the empty restroom.

Calling the Germans ruthless and sadistic was an understatement. Erza found herself eating burnt bread—if she was lucky enough to get rations, working for almost the whole day straight until her fingers bled, sleeping and being contained like sardines in a tiny room with few bunk beds and a whole other different things that would be rightfully coined as maltreatment and forced labor. It was at the second week in Monowitz that she got assigned to clean the toilets.

The redhead was thankful that she only got something menial such as scrubbing and mopping the dirty tiled floor. She checked herself on the mirror when she noticed her reflection playing tricks on her. The grimy and stained glass showed her current state—the noticeable dark rings around her eyes, contrasting her pale complexion, her fingers caked in dirt, the apparent mess of her auburn hair and the obvious loss of weight. In the previous years, her friends would always tease her about how chubby her cheeks were, but now, the only thing evident on her face were the cheekbones that seemed to protrude through her skin.

Erza ran her hand along her jaw line, measuring how it had become so prominent all of a sudden during her first two weeks in the labor camp.

_Barely two weeks and this is the result._ She shook her head, discarding her mind with all the mundane worries.

"What I should be worrying about is how to survive…" the female captive wiped her sweaty forehead with the blue and gray striped shirt she was wearing. Despite the cold weather, all the work she had been doing was burning and tiring her out at an incredible pace. She wondered how long she'll actually last if the torture continued day after day.

Erza reached the far end of the restroom and settled for cleaning the corners. It was when she noticed that the tiles beneath her seemed to move at the moment she glided the mop along it. She repeated the action once more and really felt the tiles produce a slight rocking motion. She experimentally placed her foot along it and tested if the material could hold her weight.

The tile shifted.

The redhead cautiously glanced at the door which could open at any second and reveal a German soldier that could walk in casually and notice her immediately. She took a brave move and got on all fours, quickly maneuvering her fingers to each side of the square material. She hooked her nimble appendages under it and lifted with ease.

Erza took in a sharp intake of breath. Underneath the tile was a tiny hole.

And with time and effort she knew it could be widened, big enough for a person.

Big enough for a passage.

She knew this wasn't something that occurred naturally due to rocks weathering or other scientific explanation and theories. It had to be man-made.

She swiftly covered her newly found discovery and got on to her feet—expertly executing her mopping and cleaning skills—when she heard footsteps approaching.

A couple of German soldiers paid her no heed as they eventually got to business to take a leak. Erza was mindlessly cleaning spot after spot, her head flowing infinitely to numerous possibilities for one sole purpose. She imagined and thought long and hard about the current structure and position of the restroom.

_The hole is at the corner farthest to the door. Based on how it was dug out, the previous person chose this location because it was important—no because it has to be the only way._

She worked her nerves and drove them to their limits, thinking and searching deeply for the answer. Erza nearly dropped the mop when realization hit her like a bullet in the head.

"This is just beside the walls of the compound…"

She gripped the handle of the cleaning tool tightly, determination burning up inside her.

Erza had just found her means of escape.

* * *

Jellal was too focused that he could clearly see the scratches and dents on the countertop. He could even pinpoint the faintest hint of ink on the wooden surface. The drink on his hand was long forgotten as his mind circled around a certain someone from his camp.

"Prisoner 19526." He took a sip from his glass and slammed it down on the surface. He couldn't help it. He was going mad from so much thought activity running in his mind. The questions apparently revolved around just one person. The same person he couldn't get off of his mind lately.

He cursed at himself for over thinking such trivial things. He wanted her to suffer a slow and painful death rather than dying from a mere gunshot that would've killed her instantly. He tried to convince himself that in fact, that was apparently the reason.

_That's right. There's nothing more to it._

"Jellal!" It didn't require much wit to know who actually called out to the blue-haired man.

"What are you doing here Laxus?" The blond soldier made himself comfortable by taking an empty seat next to him.

"I've heard you left the selection to Zero." The tone was blunt, almost accusing and the ultramarine didn't fail to notice that.

"The Lieutenant Colonel." The single mention of the higher officer made the scar-faced man realize everything in an instant.

"I see! I thought you whited out on purpose!" he laughed out loud before slapping the leaner officer's back.

"There was someone here in the camp," he started casually watching as the ice in the glass melted away. Laxus snapped his head towards the ultramarine and waited for the continuation. Jellal rarely engaged in conversations with him and if he ever did, it meant that he was either confused or bewildered.

"There was a prisoner who challenged me to shoot her."

"A woman?" his face lit up and Jellal merely nodded and continued on.

"I didn't. And it felt wonderful and shameful at the same time. It was like wanting to kill and save her at the same time." Laxus remained silent and urged him to go on.

"Something about her reminded me of myself." Jellal tightly clasped his fingers around the glass, recalling and remembering himself back in the old days. "I've served the military for more than half of my life. And served the Führer for about two years now. When she taunted me to execute her that was the moment I actually made a choice." he played with the remaining rum in his glass, never letting his sea green eyes off of it.

"It was the first time I felt that killing or sparing someone wasn't an order but rather an action of my own free will." he finished and all the while, Jellal swore that he saw Laxus genuinely smile and the words came out of nowhere as it filled his mind.

_We still got our humanity. Fairly loose, but still there._

* * *

The morning routine was Jellal's most awaited moment because this was the time when he could finally see her during the early exercises.

Prisoner 19526, Erza Scarlet.

He searched for her intently through the thick columns and rows of the captives and thanked the all-too-striking color of her hair as he spotted her immediately. Jellal could clearly see the drastic changes and the horrible moments she'd been through but there was a part of him that found relief, fully knowing that she was still alive. He skipped a few blocks to reach her group as he handed out order after order.

He was sure as hell that he should have been noticed by the redhead by now, but never did she look his way or meet his gaze. In fact, Jellal felt himself frowning in confusion when her gaze remained fixated on a certain part of the camp.

Jellal wondered what could have been so interesting about the old, wrecked and detached restroom from the rest of the dull infrastructures inside Monowitz. He saw her fidget and tense every time someone entered the said room and his hunter green eyes narrowed in realization.

It was definitely the time for confrontation.

* * *

Erza sighed in relief when she was ordered to get back to her restroom duties. Quickly scanning the room for possible spies and German soldiers, she stealthily made her way to the farthest corner when she found no one and continued to dig swiftly and quietly. It was when she heard the knob of the door turning that she jumped to her feet quickly, shoving the tile back to its place and proceeded to mop the dirty floor with so much enthusiasm.

She dared to take a peek and was surprised to see a familiar face right before her. But that thing that surprised her most was not seeing the same person again, but the way he looked at her. His viridian eyes sliced through her sienna ones like he had just figured something out.

To her horror and dismay, he walked right past every available cubicle and approached her like the German killer he was.

"Erza."

The first thing she felt was shock, then confusion and then hate. Shocked at the fact that out of thousands of prisoners, he was able to recall her name. Confused at the fact that he called her by her name and not by her number, and finally, hate because she heard that deep tone coming out sharply from a mouth of an enemy. Erza couldn't even begin to discuss her hatred for the Germans who almost robbed her of everything valuable to her, and now, there was this blue-haired demon who walked casually near her and called out to her as if they knew each other.

"I've been watching you since the morning drill." he flatly stated and the redhead fidgeted at his cold and unyielding stare. She averted her gaze and focused on mopping the stained floor, covering much ground and space just to lure him away from that specific corner.

"You've been spying on me?" she growled back, gripping the handle hard in case he tries to assault her.

"Merely observing." he circled around her like a hungry shark waiting to strike and impale its prey.

"There's nothing worth observing about me." she retaliated and he stopped right before her face, taking in her virile brown orbs and frowning features. He sighed and lifted his chin high enough to intimidate her.

"Not you. Your actions. I am a soldier woman. And we know a lot of ways to extract the truth from our subjects." Jellal remained still and watched the slightest changes on her face, but found none. If there was anything that changed at all, it was her disgust that increased tenfold when he drew closer to her. Nevertheless, he continued on. "Interrogation, bribery, torture..."

Erza's eyes widened and she raised the mop defensively against him, making him take a few steps back as he added the last option. "Or by simply looking at them." His sea green eyes pierced into hers, surveying for his harbored suspicions.

"What was so fascinating about this stinky hell hole that you never tore your gaze from it during hours of the morning routine?" he went straight to the point and the female prisoner held his gaze steadily making sure she wasn't giving anything out to him.

His grin widened when he walked away from her and headed straight to the spot where she was cleaning earlier.

"Dilated pupils, rapid pulse rate, uneven heartbeats, sweaty palms." he enumerated the signs of lying one by one as his foot stopped at a certain tile. Erza's eyes widened as she tried to shove him off from where he was currently standing.

"I'd say you've got them all. And this here is the reason why." he stomped his foot onto the tile, effortlessly breaking and shattering it to pieces as it got lost into the earth below, utterly forgotten as it was swallowed up in the darkness.

"You were trying to escape?"

Metallic and cold green eyes swirled with anger and fury and she could only watch in horror as he loomed over her. Erza was thankful enough when another German soldier entered the restroom and called out to the major of the SS.

"Sir? Major Dreyar is looking for you outside," he silently watched the frazzled prisoner as his superior prepared to slaughter her as he would have thought. He pulled the revolver from his belt and pointed it at the redhead. "I can kill her for you if_—_"

"Nein." he said sternly and motioned the soldier to return and report back to the waiting officer. "Tell Laxus I'll meet him in a minute." Jellal turned his attention back to the prisoner who was busy looking for an escape.

"This won't take too long at all."

He reached for his gun and planted the tip of the revolver on her forehead.

Erza didn't cry. She didn't even try to fight back. All she did was stand there, prepared to take in the bullet in her head. At least this way, she didn't have to suffer anymore, and for that, she silently thanked the man clad in military clothes as his finger slowly made its way to the trigger.

The last thing she heard was the ear-splitting sound of a gunshot before everything went black.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry it took a little while for me to update anyway, your thoughts? Should I continue? Or drop it? Delete?**

**P.S. Forgive me for any errors, this isn't edited yet as I have a lot going on at the moment. :( Will try to edit once I have the time. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Holy...! I wasn't expecting a lot of reviews from you people! And for that thank you so much! :D I've decided to put up another chapter since you guys were really sweet! Spoiling me and all! :3 The bad news is that I may be unable to post the next chapter for...a couple of weeks? Yeah I kind of have something else important to do. Hopefully I could finish it in time for the next one. :( Sad I know, and Fairy Tail still doesn't belong to me. Enough of my rant, here's the next one!**

* * *

**In A Heartbeat  
**—because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU

**Entangled Heartstrings**

She could have sworn that the bullet went straight up to her nervous system, spared her the agony by shutting off her pain receptors and somehow—had managed to miraculously survive. The ringing sound has still yet to dissipate although little by little she could manage to pick up small sounds in the distance, like the crumbling of the wall behind her, or how the German soldier in front of her whispered words that her brain has still yet to comprehend.

"...quickly." The redhead could only pick up bits and pieces of his statement and it wasn't long before she realized she wasn't dead or even harmed for that particular matter.

"I'm not—? You just—" she stared at him, confusion plastered over her stern face as she waited for a plausible and reasonable answer from the man who was busy jumping out of the window and back to the room, bringing pile after pile of soil, covering up the hole she made on the ground.

"I know. I suggest you leave immediately while I cover this up."

It took an awful lot of time before she could process and determine the logic behind his action and this man. This very same man who spared her during the selection. This man who was keeping an eye on her every move only to spoil her plan and dare she say—almost killed her. A horde of multiple emotions was currently stirring up within her.

_I feel a headache coming..._

"Why—"

"That particular soldier had his eyes on you the whole time as well." The revelation made her eyes widen in surprise and she snorted at this.

_Just how many of you bastards were actually looking at_ me?

As if he had the ability to read her mind, he answered. "I just don't know who else were." Erza didn't respond and Jellal finally finished covering the hole with the soil he gathered outside, the snow immediately melting upon being tilled and placed inside.

"It was a good thing I got here first. I believe he had his suspicions as well." He walked right to her and checked up on her from side to side. "Good. Your ears didn't bleed."

"You didn't kill me." It wasn't a question but rather a harsh delivered statement. She inwardly cursed herself for choking at the end of her statement.

"I didn't but I beat you up and tortured you to the point where your hands bled. I punished you for not doing your assigned task well." the redhead simply furrowed her brows, carefully weighing his words.

"What are you talking about? You didn't even—"

"That, is what _happened_. Are we clear?" Her mouth went slightly ajar at realizing his intention and how good it actually was. They were going to stage the act of torture and they were going to be the actors. She just couldn't believe that a German, of all people, could actually do something good to her. Was this even possible?

"That soldier's going to come looking out for you and if he found out that you're unscathed, it'll mean trouble for both of us. Do you understand?" The ultramarine reached for the whip that was securely placed on the back of his uniform and gave it to her. "Now hit yourself as hard as you can."

"Why are you doing this?" she was eager to wait for an answer but knowing full well that they simply do not have the time, she just left the question hanging in the air and prepared to hit herself with the tip of the whip.

With a swift movement of one arm, she raised the torture device high in the air and slapped herself with a force greater that she had intentionally released. Erza's screams and strangled groans didn't need to be faked as the material left her skin burning and searing, finding herself lost in an abyss of pain. But she was tougher than that, at least that's what she believed. Another stinging sensation made her howl in agony and she dropped the whip upon the fifth strike.

She couldn't bear to hurt herself any longer and all she felt was her body shuddering at the pain she brought upon and inflicted on herself.

"That wouldn't pass as a torture at all Erza. You have to hit yourself more." His steel green eyes were hard but ironically, there was a touch of softness in those brilliant pools. She shook her head as she refused to hurt herself anymore.

"Can you do it for me?" Erza believed in the fact that she could take the hits if they came from someone else rather than herself, especially if it was a dog of the military. She had already conditioned her mind that she could take any torture brought upon her if it came from the Germans. Jellal questioned how he almost refused at the favor she asked of him. He scolded himself at how pathetic he tried to deny her request. He did horrible and brutal acts that wouldn't even compare to simple flogging, killed and slaughtered innocent civilians that mere flagellation would pale in comparison to those horrid acts. So why was he so hesitant about whipping this woman up?

He gritted his teeth and gently took the whip from her.

"This is going to hurt more than what you bargained for." his voice was thick and as soon as he got her signal, he lashed out at her without holding anything back and soon, the restroom was filled with screams and wet tears—the same symphony he heard in Block Eleven and for the longest time in his life, Jellal didn't seem enjoy the scenario and the melodious wailing of the woman in front of him.

Erza thought it took her entire lifetime for the mock—but at the same time, realistic— torture. She winced in pain when she couldn't feel her arms by her side. Swallowing her pride and finally accepting that this man in front of her was someone she could rely on, she said the words that caught him off guard.

"Thank you." A slight pause and then a deafening silence followed.

"Just try to stay alive, Erza."

And with that, he left her all alone carrying with him the guilt of hitting her and something that he had unconsciously earned from the redhead prisoner.

He had finally gained her respect.

* * *

Jellal saw dandelions in spring when he spotted the blond man out in the frozen fields of Monowitz. The snowfall wasn't as heavy as before and the ultramarine was somehow glad at this. It meant lesser work, fewer death rates of prisoners in the camp, and lesser reports about the current condition too.

"You called for me?" he let out a foggy breath and the burly officer offered him a cigarette stick. He declined, waiting for an immediate answer. Jellal was quite annoyed because Laxus had to get in the way of him helping the prisoner with her dilemma—especially during the most crucial time. Not to mention he had hurriedly initiated his plan when he could take his precious time to ask her about a few things that he was concerned about.

"Someone's in a bad mood." the older officer snickered as he flicked his own lighter.

"Laxus, what do you want?"

"The Lieutenant Colonel wants the final data on Monowitz Jellal."

"I am done with it. Does he want me to report at the base camp?"

"Ja."

"When?"

"Tomorrow. As early as possible." Jellal let out a weary sigh. His superior really had a knack for picking a horrible time and place for everything. "Knowing the Lieutenant Colonel, it'll at least take the whole day. So who's in charge during my short absence? I assume it's you since you're already here."

Major Dreyar's bright features turned dark as he shook his head slowly.

"I'm afraid not my friend."

The ultramarine felt his heart sank down into his gut. If Laxus wasn't going to take charge, who else would? Zero clearly had his hands full on the morgue and Zancrow was pleased with his position in Birkneau. So apart from the three of them, who else from the Schutzstaffel with a high rank would manage the labor camp?

"Who will Laxus?" his voice was demanding and the blond threw him a disappointed look.

"It's Zancrow, Jellal."

"What?" his reaction was worse than what Laxus had expected. His eyes became a torrent of raw anger and his lips that were once pressed into a thin line had now bared his pearly whites, showcasing the representation of the devil himself.

"Zero said he'd be more than willing to spare a few hours in Birkneau and—I don't know how, but he managed to convince Zancrow from taking your place. I actually proposed for the position but the Lieutenant Colonel had already decided." he looked at his comrade who was still trying to grasp the information he had just told him and frowned when he remembered something.

"Is she still alive?" Jellal snapped his head up, apparently knowing who the blond was referring to.

He merely nodded and Laxus sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand.

"And knowing her feisty attitude, she would definitely get into trouble."

But Jellal didn't manage to hear his comment anymore as his mind floated off to find a way to tell her about this. He cursed at himself. This was a totally bad time as she has still yet to recover from the wounds on her arms and Jellal knew that her condition will get worse at the end of the day.

She was vulnerable. Temporarily. But still weak in her current state.

And knowing Erza and Zancrow, their paths shouldn't ever _ever _cross. To think he went through all that trouble just to keep her safe—hurt, but safe, beaten but still alive. It's not only because they were extremely incompatible and volatile, it's just that they weren't the perfect combination.

She was fuel and he was fire; one wrong move and his Scarlet could die.

* * *

During the end of the day, Erza was clearly gratified when no one seemed to notice her or pay attention to how badly beaten she was. That was good because she loved being invisible, hell she planned to stay invisible.

_Maybe you're just trouble. That's why no one ever bothers to be with you._ She smiled bitterly at the thought and steered herself back to the compound where they were kept, fed and allowed to rest.

"Finally..." The redhead's hands throbbed and her hands were suffering from excruciating pain. The huge purplish-blue bruises and broken skin marred her once flawless skin but thanks to the weather, the cold seemed to have numbed the pain when she buried them into the snow that piled up on the field. It was a better alternative treatment than none at all.

Erza sighed, noticing that her strength got all drained from the hardships she overcame. She dragged her shaking knees to move.

_God damn it! It's only a few blocks away!_

It was when she was torn between having to pull her feet to move or crawl back to bed and finally enjoy a peaceful sleep when a shadow shifted from under the moonlight that bathed the camp in blue. Ironically, everything inside the deadly grounds appeared ethereal to her. She turned her dreary gaze around the corner, catching a glimpse of a strikingly familiar figure.

"You..." she had managed to choke out as she forced her legs to turn his way.

"We need to talk. We simply do not have much time." His voice was smooth against the dead of the night, like velvet and honey.

"What are you still—"

Jellal grabbed her wrist and she nearly howled at the sudden contact of his gloved hand on her searing flesh. His hold on her was like pouring alcohol on her wounds. He swiftly pulled his hand away reflexively, and immediately apologized as he motioned her to join him in a conversation at someplace where they could talk privately.

"Here." He fished out several bandages from his double-breasted jacket and his eyes asked for her permission if he could treat her. Jellal was a little bit surprised when she held out her arms to him, a gesture which clearly meant that he could.

He started from her arms and made his way down to her fingers. He silently wrapped the bandages on both her limbs and stared at her when he was finished.

Erza herself couldn't believe that she had let him treat her, much more touch her. She would never have dreamed of the day when she would allow a filthy pair of German hands to glide and skim across her skin, but he was different. She had finally swallowed her pride and accepted the fact that he wasn't the enemy. That he was someone she could turn to and rely on.

She respected him. No, it was much more than that.

She trusted him.

"I'll make this quick." he started searching inside his overstuffed looking coat and produced a steaming hot bun from the field gray cloth. Erza felt herself salivate as the aroma of freshly baked bread invaded her sinuses. The redhead took it the moment he handed it to her and tore off a huge chunk as she slowly chewed and savored the familiar taste she thought she had forgotten.

"You like bread a lot?" he lightheartedly asked, watching her through amused hunter green eyes.

"Only if I always get burnt bread." Erza didn't mind if she lost her poise, or ate without any gracefulness at all. It was the least of her worries and stuffing her stomach and replenishing her strength were matters far more important than her little and insignificant worries.

"Erza," the seriousness in his tone made the redhead flinch as she looked up to meet his gaze. "I'll be gone by tomorrow, but only for a day. I need you to be at your best behavior until I return." He stood up, dusting the snow that had fallen upon his clothes. She slowly rose as well and Jellal could only make little of her expression in the darkness; but whatever it was, he knew that her safety was all that mattered to him now, because finally, he had once again found the light.

His light.

He smiled secretly to himself as he turned to leave. A sudden force stopped him in his tracks and he whipped his head to identify what pulled him back. It was her voice.

"Your name." her eyes were puffy and red and tired but the power behind them was far greater than the pain she was enduring. He tilted his head to the side, raising a thin eyebrow in the process.

"Pardon?"

"Your name. I still don't know your name."

The cold wind blew, carrying the stillness and unrest between the two of them. The clouds that concealed the moon parted slightly, revealing the rays of velvety light, tracing and illuminating the fields and their features in a heavenly glow. His mouth slightly dropped open before he could register the question in his mind and smiled.

"Jellal. Jellal Fernandes."

* * *

**A/N: Yeah not much action in this chapter. A lot of talk shit, I know I know. But look out for the next one!Something interesting will happen! *evil grin* So your thoughts? Did I make Erza a little too weak and soft here? Too fast-paced? Too cheesy?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Typos! Typos everywhere! This is the raw file I typed away for good long 2 hours. I just let my brain do the honors of writing this down. The rating might change as of next chapter. READ AND REVIEW PEOPLE! LOL**

* * *

**In A Heartbeat  
**—because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU

**Broken Rhapsody**

_Jellal. Jellal Fernandes._

Even though the room was filled with women perfectly stationed and entitled to their works, Erza couldn't seem to focus with the task at hand. After her failed attempt of escape and the digging incident, she was relieved of her restroom duties—punished by the so-called major of the Schutzstaffel—and was assigned to the sewing section. This was where the prisoners of war were forced to make decent uniforms and other necessary clothing to support and supply the German army.

The wounded redhead was having a hard time working with the field gray cloth because every time she tried to sew the material, the image of a familiar face would spring forth from her vision—his ultramarine locks that framed his aristocratic face, the sharp and steely gaze of his olive green eyes, the smoothness and richness of his voice, the ecstatic red tattoo on his cheek—

Erza frowned.

_Since when did I start paying attention to small details?_

She felt odd...and somewhat confused at the foreign feeling. It was a totally different territory that she willingly let herself in and somehow, she didn't blame herself for crossing beyond the line.

Erza proved that he deserved her respect and gratitude. She knew he cared, but she also knew it was out of compassion. He was kind, but she hadn't mistaken it for love. The thread that separated the extreme emotions was still there, no matter how thin it was.

Their relationship was built purely on trust and mere impulse. It wouldn't pass the borders of friendship, but rather the crossroads of acquaintance. She also wouldn't mind if it reached past the level of mutual affection. It was a long path she would freely risk especially if somehow, Jellal would gladly help her survive inside the walls of Monowitz.

She accidentally punctured her finger with the needle that kept on fumbling within her grasp due to the numerous injuries that decorated both her arms. A bead of red liquid stained the field gray uniform that she was sewing and a murderous aura approached her as soon as the blood seeped into the rough and dull material.

From the back of her mind, she had hoped that somehow, the moment she turned her head, she would meet his hypnotizing sea green eyes, hoped that somehow, when she met his crooked smirk, she would smile back at him and apologize for a mundane and inexcusable mistake.

"Hey now," it wasn't the cool and composed voice of the ultramarine that she heard but instead it was a sinister and malicious voice, dripping with every intent to kill. The rest of the female sewers stopped as they all cowered in fear. "You soiled our uniform with your filthy blood." The slight cackle in his voice told the redhead that this was not the same officer who had spared her life and saved her twice.

She drowned inside the man's pools of horrifying crimson eyes, the moment she decided to face him. The evil grin plastered on his pale face reeked with every desire to slaughter and hack and slash. Soon enough, Erza found herself choking in his sharp and spiky blond hair. The German soldier brought the barrel of his revolver to rest upon her forehead as he released the safety, the clicking sound proving his point.

"Any last words?" Erza hated it. She hated the foul and morbid language that came out of his vile mouth that sliced its way to her auditory nerves. The redhead then remembered the advice of the tattooed man before he left.

_Erza, I need you to be at your best behavior._

She gritted her teeth.

_No._

If she was going to die at this point, she wasn't planning on losing even a shred of her dignity and pride. Erza glared at him with fiery bronze orbs and chose her final words perfectly.

"Hau ab arschloch."

A shark grin spread across the German's face as he laughed maniacally, amused and annoyed at her at the same time.

"You've got guts hündin." the unfamiliar soldier showed her his infamous grin before turning deadly serious.

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

Jellal yawned.

The ultramarine was apparently bored with the mountains of papers and redundant reports on his camp, but what he couldn't shake off was the feeling of restlessness. The blue-haired soldier was keeping a calm and cool façade, making sure that the anxiety he felt was kept under all circumstances.

He reached for a bottle of wine as he was given a full thirty minute break by the Lieutenant Colonel.

Jellal popped it open, pouring a generous amount of thick red liquid into his wine glass.

"Red...scarlet...like her hair."

He took in a quick sip.

Jellal Fernandes was a man known to have a few amount of errors and the reason why his hand slipped off the fragile and slim stem of the glass, the reason why a puddle of deep dark red stained the carpet, the reason why the wine glass shattered to pieces and the reason why he was staring at the now broken stemware was because he had sensed something wrong.

A bad omen.

An intuition about the first thing that came to his mind.

"Erza..."

And as far as he's concerned, his intuition was always right.

* * *

She gripped her shoulder as she desperately tried to keep the blood from gushing out. All the while, Erza felt all eyes on her, both a mixture of guilty looks and horrified glances. She tried reaching out for the field gray cloth and attempted to wrap it around her fresh wound but the blond officer kicked her hard on the gut right before she could initiate first aid.

"Oi, you whore, get up!" the guard grabbed a fistful of her scarlet hair and pulled with a force that had her screaming as she felt the strands detaching from the roots of her head.

"Outside! NOW! The rest of you get back to work!" Erza could only grunt in pain as she felt herself being dragged by the ruthless and sadistic officer. The rest of the workers all shrunk back to their stations as they tried to ignore the horrible act in front of their eyes.

The icy wind hit her like a tidal wave and she shivered violently when she was shoved out of the snowy fields yet again.

"Strip now." he ordered as another bullet plunged into the same spot where she was hit earlier. Erza screeched in a futile attempt to keep herself conscious both from the freezing temperature and the blood that she was losing.

Instead of obeying, Erza snarled at the soldier and spat on his boot.

"I'd rather die." the nobility and opposition in her voice almost made the officer hurl in disgust as he sent her flying with another brutal kick to the stomach. He called out to a couple of soldiers who were guarding the vicinity and ordered for her to be strapped to one of the poles.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, prisoner..." he roughly grabbed her left hand as he searched for the numbers etched on her forearm. "19526. I am the commanding officer of Birkneau and the substitute officer of this camp, Major Zancrow of the Schutzstaffel."

He watched through amused crimson eyes at how she tried to break free of the cold chains that bound her to the pole. Frozen and icy metal breaking and numbing her skin at the sudden contact.

"Freeze to death hündin."

* * *

At long last, Jellal was back to the labor camp after the trip to Auschwitz. He gazed at the heavy snow falling from the sky. They were indeed pretty, like diamond dust pouring down from above. But they were also deadly like assassins in the stillness of the night, slowly draining life out of anyone without exception. Jellal pulled his coat closer to himself as he trod on the thick puddle of ice, working his way with his black combat boots.

He stopped halfway through the entrance of Monowitz when he saw a familiar shade of color in the distance.

Scarlet.

The fiery hue was quickly being engulfed and enveloped by the cold and bitter snowstorm.

The last of its remaining spark losing and dying out to the weather.

Just like he said, no exceptions.

* * *

If he was a second later, he could have sworn her body would be delivered to the morgue and then to the crematorium. Jellal had one hell of a shock when he saw her bleeding and freezing to death, clothed with nothing but thin and tattered garments. He immediately brought her to his barracks without thinking or even considering the consequences. But this matter was far worse than the 'what if's' and the 'what could have been's'.

_Fuck! One day. ONE FUCKING DAY and this happened!_

He _knew _this was bound to happen. Who could have thought that out of the thousands of prisoners, he'd get to meet her. The chance was like finding a needle in a haystack—one in a million.

"Erza stay with me." he whispered at the barely conscious woman lying on his bed.

Although he had removed the bullet from her flesh, cleaned and dressed the wound, her condition wasn't getting any better. She was shaking like a leaf in the middle of the storm. Jellal checked her fingers and noticed that they had gone a bit gray and yellowish.

He gave one of her nimble appendages a hard pinch and it didn't even elicit a reaction from the redhead.

_Superficial frostbite._

Jellal quickly but thoroughly applied warmth to the affected areas—her fingers, toes and even her ears. At first, there was a slight hesitation to remove her soaked clothes but later on, he figured out that he wasn't going to risk the chance of her having to suffer from hypothermia. Any acts of chivalry would only bring her closer to death and he wouldn't allow that. What she needed was relief and first aid, not second thoughts and hesitation.

He lit up dozens of candles spread out like wildfire across the room to make sure that her body temperature doesn't drop off too low or get too hot which may shock her system and end up in worse condition.

The German SS continued wiping her with a towel dipped in warm water until her skin regained its natural rosy color. Jellal was sweating from the heat coming from the flickering flames of the candles, the room feeling more like a brick oven rather than a comfortable and cozy lounge. He didn't mind the heat at all, so long as she could recover. He stripped down, leaving only his militay pants on and settled for the wooden chair as he waited for her to regain consciousness.

* * *

Prisoner 19526 shifted slightly under the sheets. She was feeling too hot and bothered for her own liking. That was when she decided to toss the sheets aside. Wondering where she was, the redhead sat up. A stinging sensation delivered the most plausible reason for her current situation and location. The images of the previous onslaught flashed through her mind and she gasped at another wave of pain that shot up through her nerves. The blond, red-eyed officer, the bullets, the snow...

_I should be dead._

Ironically, the statement regarding her death was becoming a redundant and disturbing cycle. Every time she wakes up, the painful sensations would always remind her that yes, she was still alive.

She noticed that her injured body parts were dressed with sterile bandages—that she didn't catch a fever from infection. In fact she felt better.

It was only then that she realized that she was naked. She let out a small squeak as she wrapped the blankets around her frame. She scanned the small room intently, searching for any signs of the German bastards and found one. There across the room was a blue-haired man sleeping soundly on the wooden chair, half-naked and sweating profusely.

She looked back at herself and back to him, repeating the action until something registered in mind.

Naked.

Inside a private room.

Her eyes widened and Erza almost went berserk at the thought.

Forcing her weak body to stand up, she grabbed a lit up candle and stealthily made her way towards the slumbering soldier. She was about to incinerate his flesh when he suddenly shoved her backwards, efficiently sending her back to the soft mattress. Erza scrambled to stand up but her actions were stopped as the ultramarine's strong frame pinned her to bed.

"Calm down woman!" he hissed, but it only made her thrash even more.

His sturdy and heavy weight was crushing her and the redhead could feel the wound on her shoulder reopening. She muffled her screams as any noise might only catch the other soldiers' attention.

"Erza!"

She didn't know why but somehow, his low and cool voice made her stop. Hot streams of tears flowed down her face as she finally tried to calm down from her sudden outburst. She couldnt help it though, all the while she thought he was different. That he was worthy of being respected. That he could be trusted.

_I was wrong. They're all the same!_

He slowly lifted himself off of her and looked at her firmly.

"You...!" she panted hard, taking in his cerulean locks and steel green eyes.

"Ja, now I'm going to let you go and—"

"What did you do to me you filthy—"

"I told you to—"

"GET OFF OF ME!"

Jellal punched her wounded shoulder and she howled in pain.

"Look woman, I was the one who saved you from that freezing wasteland, the one who cleaned and treated your wounds and the one who warmed you up! Show a little gratitude why don't you?"

Erza looked stunned for a moment, getting drowned in both their harsh breathing and heartbeats. When she recovered, the wounded woman frowned at the ultramarine on top of her.

"Warmed me up _how exactly_?" she gripped the sheets that was the only thin boundary between their heated bodies. She glared accusingly at him and he rolled his eyes out of frustration and disbelief.

"What do you think the candles were for?"

Before she could give another snarky reply, a painful jolt had her curling like a ball. Seeing this, Jellal immediately distanced himself from her as he checked the source of her agony. He was about to lay his hand on her shoulder when she slapped it away.

"Don't." the blue-haired soldier sighed wearily at the stubborn woman in front of him. He walked towards his cabinet and took out another fresh set of bandages. He gave it to her and watched as she poorly managed the sterile cloth.

"Let me." Erza stared at him, carefully evaluating his words. In this case, she was in no condition to make demands or even complain, and whether she liked it or not, she was going to be needing all the help she could get to recover fast. She pulled the covers down her collarbone and bared her neck to him.

The action was so nostalgic that he couldn't help but smirk in amusement.

"What?" another irritated remark left the redhead's mouth and he shook his head.

"Nothing." Jellal worked with excellent speed and pressure as he wrapped her shoulder in a swift and fluid motion. He expertly covered her ample chest from beneath the sheets and was about to finish when she spoke.

"You really didn't?" he exhaled slowly as he secured the bandage from behind.

"I didn't. I promise." Jellal looked at her in the eye to prove his innocence and she averted her gaze, clearly refusing to believe the truth. It was shameful to admit that she thought she trusted him. She mostly did not trust him.

Not one bit.

And for that she loathed herself.

He gave up trying to convince her and focused on a much more important subject. The answer could only be provided by her, and if his hunch was right, he knew it would be difficult to keep her alive from now on.

"Now then, who did this to you?"

* * *

**A/N: Right. On. Schedule. Phew! Please don't kill me! LOL, well this is longer than the last one so I hope I did a pretty good job. There were only a few who reviewed in the last chapter. WAS IT THAT BAD?! :O LOL. Anyway, hope this one's better! Oh right, this story is done actually. :) Roughly ten chapters. I have one more thing to say though. Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Warning: Typos! Typos everywhere! Thank you guys for reading and reviewing and following this story! I really really appreciate your reviews and helpful feedback! And as for those who are waiting for the sequel of Of Halcyon Days and Folded Paper Cranes...I am already working on the sequel! :)**

**Special thanks to color theory and Thunderfall who are just so awesome.**

* * *

**In A Heartbeat  
**—because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU

**Silent Staccato**

"Zancrow." the cold greeting made the red-eyed officer smirk instantly, his round pools twinkling in vague amusement.

"Jellal, you're back?" the playful tone of his voice sent a message that he wasn't in the least bit shocked or surprised for that particular matter; the grin on the blond's face got even more pronounced when the blue-haired man threw daggers at him.

"Report." his answer came out harsh and clipped. Jellal's hands were clasped together in an attempt to conceal his anger by presenting a cool and stoic exterior. Unfortunately, the blaze in his hunter green eyes were throwing the whole front off. Zancrow's smirk grew wider when the exceedingly deadly aura of his equal officer filled the whole room.

"There's nothing worth reporting or even worth mentioning during my short stay here. This place is boring as it'll ever be."

"I would really prefer if we skip this part, but the Lieutenant Colonel has other things in mind."

Jellal closed his eyes.

_Calm down._

The way he was grasping both his hand made his knuckles and fingers white at the intensity of his grip. He was thankful enough that he could blame it on the cold weather and the rising tension between the two of them. The tattooed man knew that closing his eyes and cutting off his line of vision would help him calm his nerves down. He already had a hunch that the commanding officer of Birkneau was the one who tried to kill the redhead prisoner and just before he could jump to conclusions, he wanted to hear the truth come out of the arrogant blond's very own mouth. He wanted Zancrow to verbally voice out and admit his crime.

"How many of my workers did you kill?" Zancrow stood up from where he was sitting and approached the ultramarine's desk nonchalantly.

"Workers?" the shark grin plastered on his face irked Jellal even more. "Don't you mean the captives? Prisoners? _Slaves?_"

"How many?" the low growl rumbled through his throat and he nearly slammed his palm on his desk were it not for his exceptional and unrivaled patience.

The crimson orbs of the German soldier glinted in the dimly lit room of Monowitz.

"One."

Jellal's eye twitched.

But apart from the minute movement of that muscle underneath his green orb, his whole body remained like a stone statue from the outside.

It was the inner part of him that screamed death and agony and demise to the man in front of him. Jellal could feel his body warming up as his blood boiled in pure anger and rage. His soul was itching to skin him alive and dunk him into a tank full of rock salt.

"Just one?" his question almost seemed like a whisper—barely audible but Zancrow heard it clearly.

"It's not like me, I know." he turned his back on him and headed towards the door to leave. He stopped abruptly just before his hand turned the knob. He spoke one final time, the tone malicious and apparently satisfied—like a beast who had just been satiated. "Prisoner 19526."

Jellal froze.

"The redhead hündin." the devil licked his lips as he faced the ultramarine. "I have to say though, her life was worth a thousand prisoners. She was entertaining until the last moment." his cracked laughter reverberated inside the closed four-cornered room of Monowitz. Zancrow expected a complaint, or a string of deafening protests but Jellal did what the yellow-haired demon never expected him to do.

He smiled.

He already got his answer.

"Thank you Major Zancrow. I'll be sure to seek your assistance when another opportunity comes."

* * *

"Now then, who did this to you?"

Erza noticed that the sweating officer in front of him was determined to extract the truth from what had happened to her. Before she gave out her answer, the redhead tapped away his hands that rested on her bare shoulders.

"Give me some decent clothing first." he stared at her as if trying to process her statement. He blinked once, then twice and forced his phthalo green orbs to remain fixated on her face. It took an awful amount of judgment for Jellal to be able to come up a proper response. He turned his head away and dragged his feet back towards his cabinet as he fished out for a fresh set of clothes.

"Here."

She took it slowly, keeping her eyes glued out to his and they stared at each other for the longest time.

"Aren't you going to get dressed?" he asked casually.

"Aren't you going to turn around and not look?"

He sighed and shook his head in disbelief.

"Can I just close my eyes?" he jokingly suggested.

"How hard is it to turn around?"

"Hmmm, harder than bringing my eyelids down."

"Would you just—fine! Have it your way!" Erza roughly shoved the sheets aside, exposing herself to the ultramarine who was eyeing her body intently.

_Her skin color is back to normal. The bruises and cuts are getting better, and she's just as lively as before._

Erza finished dressing in a matter of seconds and found out that the German was still staring at her unabashedly.

"What is it now?" she frowned and the stern look on Jellal's face turned sympathetic.

"Erza...who did this to you?"

She looked down, ashamed for a second. Here he was, trying his best to help her recover and all she could do was suspect and accuse him of things he hadn't even done. She bit her lip hard until it drew blood and she scrunched her eyebrows in the process.

_Why does it seem like a complete reversal of roles? He's supposed to be the bad guy...right?_

"Erza?"

"It was...I can't seem to remember...it was all blurry and..."

"I see. But first we have to do something quick about your current state." she looked at him expectantly. Erza was quick-witted and she knew it was only a matter of time before the soldiers who were assigned to 'clean' her up comes back.

"What do you have in mind?"

He scooted over the edge of his bed where he joined her in a sitting manner.

"Actually—"

It was out on reflex and adrenaline that Jellal pounced on Erza the moment the door flew open. From the entrance of the room was a man who looked like his energy was just drained from his body.

"Oi Jellal, I know we could have our own harlots...but I didn't know you really kept one."

The ultramarine cursed as he airily leaped back onto his feet and dashed to lock the door.

"Laxus! Don't you knock?" he seethed, checking for other possible voyeurs.

"And don't you lock your door?" the blond officer looked at the redhead who was still sprawled on the soft mattress as he whistled a low tune of approval.

"Oh, so you and Red here are—"

"Don't even say the word." Jellal snarled at the burly soldier who was busy assessing the female who shrunk back further to the corner of the room when she was alerted by the presence of an enemy.

"Erza," he locked gazes with her as if to tell her that everything was fine and he had it under control. "this is Laxus."

"Seriously Jellal you should have told me that you two were already screw—"

"Excuse me?" she cut him off before he could finish his statement.

"Laxus, you came at the perfect time." all eyes were now focused on the ultramarine who cared less about his fellow officer's opinion. "I'm going to need a tattoo gun, some prisoner's clothes and bring some food while you're at it. Something to warm her up and replenish her strength."

"Oi, oi, are you ordering me around?"

Jellal smirked as he slipped on his military jacket.

"Nein. Merely a request my fellow officer."

* * *

Erza sipped the warm soup and felt the liquid revive every dead cell in her body. She dipped her head downwards to meet the spoonful of steaming hot broth halfway.

"Now I need some answers Jellal." Laxus' cheerful tone dissipated as a more serious side of him dominated his entire persona. The ultramarine ran his fingers through his locks and wearily sighed.

"Can we discuss—"

"Nein. I want answers. Now." he settled for the wooden chair across the small room and waited for the tattooed man to say something. Anything that would clear and sort things out. Jellal was beside the redhead prisoner who also at that moment paused to get answers. Her personal answers.

Erza watched as the two men glared at each other for the longest time frame without even blinking. Tangerine clashed with green. Their eyes battling out argument after silent argument, determining whose side weighed more than the other. They remained lost in their own private world for a few minutes but eventually got back to reality when the blond heaved off a long sigh.

"Are you sure about this?"

The ultramarine nodded meekly.

"Alright, so I guess that's it then." Laxus scratched the back of his neck and lazily stood up. He reached for the tattoo gun that his fellow officer asked of him and approached both of them who sat together on bed. "Here."

He handed it to the ultramarine and he took it silently, his head turning to face the redhead who was beside him the whole time.

"Give me your left arm Erza." he instructed ever so softly and Laxus watched with much interest as the prisoner complied without making a fuss. Normally, others couldn't bear to even share the same space with the blue-haired man; but the woman who was now removing the bandage on her battered arm, the woman who confidently exposed her vulnerable flesh, the woman who winced in pain when Jellal initiated the tattooing process was steady and calm and—was that security she showed?

Whatever it was, the emotion was clearly anything but fear. It was the first time that Laxus had witnessed something like this. The first time he had seen Jellal emanate emotions that wasn't anger or hate or ruthlessness. It was his locked up emotions for his family surfacing once again for the prisoner in front of the ultramarine.

"You will no longer be Prisoner 19526 but rather 19826 understand?" Erza eyed the newly transformed number five to eight and she nodded in agreement.

"How about the soldiers outside? Will they—"

"I will take care of that and..." Jellal looked at Laxus expectantly. The blond officer crossed his arms under his chest and sighed. "...I will be needing your assistance. For one final time."

"Alright. But I would like to discuss matters..." his gaze fell upon the redhead who was busy wrapping the bandage once more along the length of her arm, oblivious to the prying eyes of both officers. "...privately."

Jellal dragged himself and Laxus outside and checked the halls. He was thankful enough that he was given the whole floor as his private space.

"What is it?"

Laxus placed his hand on one of the ultramarine's broad shoulders, his eyes looking virile and steadfast as ever.

"You do know that what you're doing is against the Führer. Against our country. Against Germany."

Jellal remained still and quiet for a moment. After all, what could he possibly say? He couldn't deny what the blond was currently accusing him of, because it was the truth and he had already shown his assistance to the redhead by treating her wounds and saving her life.

"Are you going to turn us in?" Jellal knew it was unfair of him to shoot the suspicion right back against his comrade, but the desperate feeling of keeping her alive was outweighing other emotions he had right at that moment.

"Nein. I may be a soldier of this country, but I am your friend first and foremost." he gave a reassuring smile and a pat on the ultramarine's back before his face turned dark. "But be warned my friend. The moment someone from the Schutzstaffel finds out about this apart from us, not only you but Ultear and Meredy—your family—will pay the price."

"I am most aware of that."

The blond sighed and before taking his leave, he asked him a question that was supposed to pass as a joke.

"Do you like her?"

Jellal smiled as he escorted him down the staircase.

Little did both of them know that the redhead was leaning on the door, her back flat against the cool surface of the wood. She knew it was rude of her to eavesdrop and take in the gist of their conversation but she just couldn't help herself. It only left her wondering and guessing at the last question that was left hanging in the air but Erza could only be sure of one thing.

It was only the blond officer who knew—because the answer, although unanswered, surely was written all over his face.

* * *

Jellal made it back inside and was surprised to see her sitting properly on bed, staring at him like she was waiting for his return. It was the first time he'd come to witness her behave like this.

"How are you doing?" his voice was softer than usual. A tone that Erza defined as something he would only use for her. She slowly stood up and hooked her hand around the elbow of her other arm. Her left foot was playful against the heel of her right one and Jellal raised a brow at this.

"Is something wrong?" he approached her, carefully surveying her condition for open wounds or aching injuries.

"Nothing's wrong. It's just...I didn't heed your advice...I...I'm sorry."

Jellal gawked at the fidgeting female who was trying her best not to blush. A slight rumble in his throat indicated his first reaction. Erza thought he was growling at her, finally releasing the rage that had built up within him. But the low rumbling became something more softer and smoother. A lighthearted sound.

A genuine and sincere laughter.

"Y-You're laugh—are you making fun of me?" she folded her arms across her chest and clicked her tongue in annoyance. Jellal immediately soothed down her fury by placing his hand on top of her scarlet hair.

"I'm not." he smiled handsomely and right at that moment, all Erza wanted to do was wrap her feeble arms around his neck and press their bodies together. All she wanted to do was take in his sturdy frame that made her feel secure at all times. All she wanted to do was breathe in his minty scent and get lost in his pools of glinting pair of viridian orbs. But instead of doing what she wanted, she did what was needed—

"Thank you, Jellal."

—and smiled.

The redhead was sure that gravity had done nothing which led to their current position. The ultramarine had wrapped her delicate figure with a pair of strong arms that had snaked their way to her narrow waist. Erza could feel his head buried somewhere along the juncture of her shoulder and neck and that her chin was lightly resting on his shoulder. She slowly motioned her weak arms to circle and wrap around the expanse of his back and she felt her world stop—lost in time and locked up in their tight embrace.

Erza could only make little of what he said, but she was sure that it was something between "Thank God" and "I'm just glad you're safe."

* * *

"You're thanking me?" Zancrow's lips tilted upwards and suddenly thought of a witty comeback to his sarcastic statement. "By the way, what did you do to her afterwards hmmm?"

Jellal arranged the files on top of his desk and smirked, feeling giddy all of a sudden. He pulled out a cigarette stick from his breast pocket and flicked the lighter.

"I sent her body to the morgue." his eyes were sparkling with so much enthusiasm that the blond officer frowned. "If you'd like, you can check her out at the crematorium. If you like her that much."

Zancrow had never felt something like this before. His heart was squeezing the life out of him and it was making a weird process of scrunching up.

It was like he had been messed up in the inside.

Had been made fun of.

Had been made a fool of.

Zancrow didn't like it.

He didn't like it at all.

He slammed the door hard.

Jellal smiled, as the gesture very well meant that he wasn't ever going to come back to Monowitz.

* * *

**A/N: Late? Naaaah! LOL. The story is nearing its end! :) I hope I'm not going at a pace that's too fast or too slow. Next chapter, a new character will be introduced. :) RR!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Once again, thank you for all the reviews! Yes I have decided to kill some characters but that is necessary for the plot. As for the death of our redhead female mage and the former wizard saint, that much I can not reveal yet. :) That is why, look forward to the end people!**

**BTW, to clear things up, the year is still set in 1944. Remember that in the first chapter it skipped from 1941 where Jellal was still an ass to Early January 1944 which is the current year now in the story. In this chapter I've jumped from Early January to Late February because this was the time when another selection was held—that was if I remember correctly, from February to March. :)**

**Chapter six is up! Have fun reading people and don't forget to leave out your love!**

**WARNING: TYPOS STILL...**

* * *

**In A Heartbeat**

—because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU

**Toppled Crescendo**

_Late February 1944_

She was once condemned and destined to face death, once known as the feisty captive of war, once known as the female who went up against the reaper of the Nazi, once known as Prisoner 19526.

But now she was just known as Erza. The redhead who put all her faith and trust to one man in order to survive.

Prisoner 19826 was busy sewing the logo of the red armbands that the soldiers of the German army wore at their left sleeves. An equilateral cross where the ends were bent, forming a right angle.

The Swastika symbol.

Erza smiled.

It was so ironic how a symbol which literally meant 'good' turned out to be the stigma of death and war. She was carefully sewing the edges of the said symbol when she noticed something odd. A pile of armbands bore the same mark except for the fact that the direction of the edges were in reverse. Prisoner 19826 tilted her head towards the direction of the tailor responsible for such insulting act. She drew in a sharp intake of breath. The person beside her was a woman younger than her by a couple of years.

She had the tresses that were as silvery as the snow during the cold days of January and she had stunning blue eyes that rival that of the clear skies during springtime. As soon as the guards find out about how she sewed the symbol, she would be punished. Or in the worst case scenario, she might die. Erza nudged the fellow prisoner to get her attention, which she eventually gained.

"You're doing it wrong." she whispered.

Ocean eyes stared confused at a pair of glinting bronze orbs. The younger female scanned the finished products and her eyes grew wide when realization hit her. She was panicking so obviously that a soldier on duty approached their working stations. Erza swiftly swoop her finished work across the girl's work station and cleared her throat when the guard stopped beside her, eyeing her empty table suspiciously.

"Why aren't you working?" the German was about to reach for the gun strapped to his waist when the redhead spoke.

"I have reached the quota assigned for me today. If you wish it, I could do some more."

The officer halted, realizing that the worth of a fast and useful worker was something valuable especially during crisis and production. He gave off an incredulous snort and stomped his way off to the other stations who apparently went out of sync from the sudden distraction. Erza let out a shaky breath, both relieved and stressed out from another encounter with death. A tug from her blue striped shirt pulled her attention back to the white -haired girl.

"Um, thank you. If it wasn't for you I think I would have been dead if someone had found out."

The redhead just smiled in return and said, "You're welcome, uh..."

The young lady blinked before holding out an outstretched hand, her cerulean eyes twinkling in appreciation,gratitude and respect.

"Lisanna, Lisanna Strauss."

"That's a very nice name, tell me how old exactly are you?" Erza flicked her fingers all of a sudden when she remembered something. "Oh, where are my manners. Erza." The girl named Lisanna took her hand and shook it gently before raising a thin eyebrow at her.

"Miss Erza?"

"Erza, just Erza."

She didn't ask anymore as to why the woman in front of her had a hair with a ridiculous striking color of red . She didn't ask as to why she had saved her or why she didn't have a last name. What mattered to her was that she owed the fellow captive her precious life. Erza scooped up Lisanna's work and dumped her own mountain of cloth into her space.

"Um—"

"Go and deliver these armbands to the soldier on duty, once he has counted them all, you can rest." she started undoing the stitches of the white thread with a speed comparable to a sewing machine.

"But—"

"Do you have someone you care for and love outside of camp Lisanna?"

The azure-eyed lady stopped and thought for a little while before giving the redhead her answer. She simply nodded and Erza pat her head like she was her little sister.

"Then try your best to stay alive because someday, we're going to get out of here and we'll be back with the people we love. Now go and have as much rest and sleep as you can. You'll need it."

Lisanna had never felt so happy for having a complete stranger turn out to be a friend of her in an instant. In fact she was amazed and dumbfounded. Who would have thought that a single and honest mistake could turn things around so differently—unexpectedly. She smiled to herself, finding a new hope building up within her. The white-haired girl gave Erza a warm hug before filling her arms with the generous amount of armbands that the redhead sewed.

_Mira-nee, Elf nii-chan, wait for me. I'll definitely come back home soon one day._

* * *

Erza stealthily made her way towards a blind spot at the campsite. She'd gotten so used to sneaking past the Germans' line of vision that the life-and-death situation she was putting herself into was becoming more like mere child's play to her. From there on out, Erza would meet up with a trusted member of the military and during the short span of time that they have, the two of them would exchange clipped acknowledgments and short greetings. She sharply turned to a corner where she immediately saw a pair of green eyes. Comfort surged within her as one gaze washed all the hardships, the challenges and the tortures away.

"Jellal." she breathed, inhaling the crisp and cold air of the dying winter. Erza loved how the cold season was almost over and how spring was nearly coming to the brutal borders of the labor camp. The season alone brought joy and hope to her.

"How much time do we have?" she timidly asked. It was barely two months since they first met and Erza had never felt something foreign such as this—where her heart would flutter every second, feel her chest overflow with happiness. She had classified this emotion as her very own version of freedom, because whenever she was with him, she never felt confined nor bound nor held.

Jellal searched the inside of his baggy military jacket and produced a steaming loaf of bread. "We've got about half an hour." he smiled and handed the loaf to her. Prisoner 19826 took it from him casually and sat down on the old forgotten ruins of red bricks. The ultramarine joined her and watched through amused phthalo green eyes as she leisurely indulged the freshly baked pastry.

"That's more than what we usually have to spare." she offered the treat and he bit off a small chunk.

"I am the commanding officer after all. I at least deserve a break every now and then." Erza just chose to nod as a response. After all, it still felt awkward conversing with the blue-haired German officer.

"So," Jellal looked at her expectantly and her face signaled him to go on with whatever thought he had on his mind. "How did you end up here?"

If it was the first time that they have met, or the first and second week of her stay in Monowitz, she wouldn't have bothered to answer the question at all. But the fact that Jellal had done things that were far too many and helpful to her, Erza decided to tell him something about herself. To let him inside her even by a little. In this pace, this slow but necessary pace, she found peace and tranquility within her heart.

"I guess your leader didn't like me voicing out my dislike for his absurd principles." she shrugged and that made the ultramarine laugh lightly. When his soft laughter died out, he decided to kick things up a notch. Jellal risked the volatile relationship they had by asking her something that wasn't along the borders of friendship but was cut off.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Why did you join the army?" Erza waited patiently for his answer. She knew that there must be a good reason why he entered the military. Jellal fished out a silver locket from his pocket and clicked it open. Two pictures of women were placed on the inside and he showed it to her. The redhead eyed the images intently before she could manage to view the picture fully.

One had a pale complexion with dark hair and the other had a livelier skin tone and a rosy hair color.

"Ultear and Meredy, the two most important people in my life."

Judging from the soft expression of the ultramarine, Erza knew from that very moment that those two people were keeping Jellal sane. The two of them were his own version of hope and happiness. As if to try and assure her of something she didn't even accuse him of, he added.

"They're my sisters." The redhead chuckled when his statement came out as choked and rushed. Setting aside the humiliation he had put himself into, he finally asked her.

"Your surname?" This time he was determined to know her full name.

"Like I've said, I don't have one."

Jellal merely nodded and watched as the bread he'd given her fell to the ground. She scooted closer to him and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. Before she could utter a word, he spoke with a tone that silenced her.

"When I wrote down your name on the list, I thought of giving you one.'

"Hmmm?"

"A surname that is."

She remained quiet for some time.

"What was it?"

Green clashed with brown as both of them stared at each other.

"Scarlet."

She blinked once.

"Scarlet." she mimicked, testing the word carefully. "You named me after a ridiculous shade of red?"

"Y-Yeah. Is...is it bad?"

Erza wrapped her arms around the ultramarine's muscular arm and relished the warmth he emitted.

She shook her head.

"Erza Scarlet. I like how it sounds."

Jellal sighed in contentment and gently shoved her hands aside as he placed his own pair on her shoulders.

"Listen, two days from now there will be another selection. And this time it'll be from our camp." the pain in his eyes was so obvious that Erza nearly tried to console him. Nearly told him that she was going to be fine. "This time around all of you would be stripped naked, be asked to run around the campsite—like some sort of an endurance test. And I need you to show whoever the officer is assigned the best you've got. Understand? And whatever you do, don't show off your number."

She furrowed her brows.

"What happens when I get picked?"

"They'll send you to the _showers_ in Birkneau where the selected ones would be locked up in a room and die slowly by means of chemical poisoning."

A long pause followed before it sunk into her.

"Are you telling me this because you want me to survive?"

"No. I'm telling this because I want you to live."

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter done! Well, any guess who the officer in charge of the next selection would be? Hmmm? Is it going to be Laxus? Jellal? Zero? Or Zancrow? Next chapter—the selection, tortures and Prisoner 19826 bites the dust. Yes, you read that right. PRISONER 19826. Read and review people!**

**P.S.-working on the next chapter of CEAPR. Will be posted some time next week I guess? :/**


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning: Typos galore!**

* * *

**In A Heartbeat**

—because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU

**Switching Escapade**

"You like him don't you?" a playful tone pulled a certain someone out of reverie. A choked sound reverberated inside the crowded room full of tailors and a snort followed immediately.

"What?"

Lisanna smiled devilishly, liking the reaction she got from the redhead. It was the middle of a fair day when the two captives of war decided to lighten things up a bit by starting off a conversation.

"The tattooed blue-haired officer." she gave Erza a little nudge to emphasize her point and the unaffected female prisoner just scoffed.

"I don't, in fact—wait, how do you know I know him?" she arched an eyebrow as she waited for a reply.

"I see you secretly meeting him somewhere around the back of the compound." she honestly answered and bronze eyes stared owlishly at the young female captive. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." the wink and the tone of her voice was an assurance of security and secrecy. Even though Erza had just known the young lady in less than a week, she knew Lisanna was the type of person who could be trusted.

"So?"

"So what?"

"You _really _like him don't you?" she giggled and the redhead, instead of thinking of a proper response just wandered her sight to the numbers etched on the silver-haired girl's left forearm.

19326.

_So she's been here longer than me huh?_

Erza found this fact to be the spark that lit up the determination within her. A subtle trigger of her will to survive.

_If she's this young and she's managed to survive til now, why can't I?_

"Erza?"

"I'm sorry where were we?"

Lisanna smiled.

"Major Fernandes."

The redhead rolled her eyes at this. "I told you, Jellal and I aren't like _that_."

"But you guys are on a first name basis! There must be something! Anything!"

Erza narrowed her sienna orbs at this.

"Just how much of our conversation did you hear exactly?"

The young lady just scratched her nape and laughed off weakly. Erza sighed in defeat and started to narrate everything that had happened between them so far. She told her about the time he spared her during the selection, told her the time when he saved her from being tortured although ironically he was the one who did pass the hurt on her by faking it, told her how he bandaged her wounds and dressed and fed her, told her how he would always give her a freshly baked bread. All these Erza told her in hopes that she would somehow realize that their situation and any hopes of being together was blown to smithereens.

"I'm sorry." Lisanna softly said as she lowered her head in the process.

"What for?"

Blue eyes meekly met her confused hazelnut orbs, guilt and remorse coating her gentle gaze.

"I was the one who dug the hole. If I didn't—hadn't—"

"Ssh. It's alright," the redhead offered a warm smile. "You weren't the idiot who got caught. Besides, if it wasn't for that hole, I wouldn't have had the chance to meet him once again." Erza placed her hand on the soft spot of her head and whispered ever so softly. "Thank you."

It was a simple act of gratitude but to Lisanna it meant a lot more than that. It meant friendship and trust and a start of a beautiful bond. She hugged the redhead and Erza was suddenly taken aback by surprise. Partially healed arms wrapped around the smaller frame of the fragile woman and the silver-haired girl whispered words that struck the older captive's heart.

"You love him don't you? And he feels the same?"

They remained locked in each others' arms and both of them weighed the question that was raised. It was Erza who spoke and the younger lady heard the melancholy latched in her voice.

"What I feel—what he feels—what _we_ feel, is not meant to be."

Lisanna softly looked her in the eyes, a smile uplifting her tired facial features.

"Still, what you both have and share is beautiful. And I'd do anything to keep that alive."

Erza pressed her chin on top of her head and warned the innocent girl.

"Today—"

The girl wrapped in her arms merely nodded as she apparently knew how the drill went.

"I won't get picked." her resolve came out strong and Erza wanted to believe every word that came out of her pretty little mouth. But judging from the female's appearance—cracked and trembling lips, bloodshot eyes, and wobbly stature—the redhead prayed to whoever God that was watching them to keep both of them safe.

* * *

Cold and steel-hard fingers reached for the crusher cap as the apparel was laid softly on top of snowy flowing locks.

"Where are you going old man?" a relaxed figure leaning on the door asked lazily.

Hazy eyes promised and spelled trouble. The yellow-haired demon pressed his lips into a thin line.

Major Zancrow of the Schutzstaffel was amused. Today was actually the day where he could get to see another group of souls that would soon suffer the inferno of hell when they get picked and when they enter the gates.

"Mind if I join you at the selection old man Zero?"

The surgeon just sneered at him and packed slipped on his military jacket, completing all the needed preparations for his departure to the labor camp.

"I'm afraid not. This one, I shall fully enjoy."

The trip from the base camp all the way to Monowitz was a shorter trip than expected. The moment the old officer set foot on the entrance of the labor camp, men and women were all gathered—naked—and line up in neat and proper columns and rows. Everyone was trembling if not from the cold, from fear. Zero was the surgeon notorious for having weird tastes in choosing his victims for his so-called 'experiments'. He was especially fond of twins that he would dissect them alive and then sew them back together as one. He was also notable for injecting his 'medications' to healthy subjects and plucking out their eyes. No one really wanted to meet him in person or even want to see him at all for that matter.

But he was here now in the ground that spilled sweat and blood. Erza and Lisanna were located at the female's section and were stark naked. They weren't really feeling any shame crawling up their skin because they were too busy thinking of ways on how to not get picked and somehow survive the incoming onslaught.

Erza remembered clearly the words that the ultramarine left her and she decided to pass them off to Lisanna who was shaking like a snapped branch hanging loosely from the trunk.

"Show them the best you've got so they won't pick you, and whatever you do, don't show them your number."

The silver-haired lady slowly nodded, taking her time for the words to register in mind.

A sharp whistle caught all of the prisoners attention as the sound very well signaled the start of the run. A run with no particular laps or time that they have to accomplish in order to be saved from the 'showers' in Birkneau. It started off as a sloppy mark for the rest of the female and as the redhead had observed, the eyes of the old officer never missed anything. From a simple trip to a hard fall, Zero caught them all and he ordered his men to jut down all the numbers of the prisoners that had fallen to the ground.

The selection was about to finish when they all reached the starting point for the seventeenth time, but by this time, Lisanna was already out of breath—her eyes getting cloudy from exhaustion and her lungs felt like they were on fire. The only thing that was keeping her from hitting the ground were the sharp bronze eyes that bore from her back telling her to endure everything. And she did, by that time, Erza lost her focus on the last minute and that was the time when her knees caved in. From this she already knew she was going to get picked.

She pulled off her last trick and prevented prying eyes to get her number. She smirked, feeling satisfied as the rest of the soldiers frowned when they failed to register her number. The stampeding prisoners were also preventing them from seeing her all too delicate frame against the dust and rubble. The surgeon smirked while shaking his head off, eyeing her intently as she tauntingly teased him with her middle finger.

She did it.

She has survived the selection.

* * *

Only a few prisoners got selected as usual. Monowitz had the lowest rate of captives who were chosen to be killed in Birkneau because almost all of them were capable and useful. Jellal knew this and he knew that the moment he finished all necessary work in the ghetto, he immediately went back to camp with a new set of prisoners.

He ordered all his soldiers to take care of the remaining procedures as he was dying to see someone he had awfully missed.

Prisoner 19826.

He stealthily made his way to the place where they usually meet in order to discuss matters concerning survival methods. But this time, Jellal had finally decided to teach her something more than surviving. He wanted to teach her life and dreams and love.

The ultramarine was ready to voice all of his thoughts out. Ready to see the all too familiar sight of her lovely and rich scarlet hair when his breath got stuck in his throat.

From the place where he believed she would be stood a lady with silver hair and puffy, pleading blue eyes.

The woman who was now begging beneath him was not Prisoner 19826.

It was not Erza Scarlet.

* * *

**A/N: Well, was that predictable? :) Hope this one made up for the crappy chapter last week even though short. :P I'm sorry this one only had a little Jellal screen time but that wasn't so bad now was it?**

**Some things you might want to know:**

***prisoners in birkneau were given towels and soaps for them not to freak out when they enter the 'shower rooms' where they were poisoned to death by solid pellets of zyklon-b.  
*****dr. josef mengel—zero's personification—was the most notorious and brutal of all the physicians in the camp. His experiments included placing subjects in pressure chambers, testing drugs on them, freezing them, attempting to change eye color by injecting chemicals into children's eyes, and various amputations and other surgeries.  
*****ghetto was a place where all the Jews to be transferred to the camps were kept for the meantime.**

**LOL, anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this! Two or three more chapters left! Don't miss it!**

**P.S. Will post the second chapter of CEAPR in a few days :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**WARNING: TYPOS**

* * *

**In A Heartbeat**

—because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU

**Rhythmic Rapture**

Was it the simple trip? Perhaps the sluggish way she had carried herself from the final lap? Or maybe it was the apparent glow of her skin that caught his attention? Why not consider and add her scarlet and unusual hair color to the details? Hell, if she didn't pull off the middle finger act, she wouldn't have been chosen...right?

Whatever the reason was, it was incomprehensible to Erza.

She was beyond shocked. If there was a proper term to describe her feeling, it was safe to say that her system had malfunctioned. She just couldn't believe that the old officer managed to fish her out of thousands of prisoners. And here she was now on yet another foreign soil as she would have deemed—marching towards her own demise. The extermination camp was a bigger place compared to the labor camp and for each station, there were twice as many guards.

Erza followed the long line and picked her own pace as she silently formulated plans for possible escape.

Her hands shook.

Her body trembled.

There was no way she could escape this one unscathed. Not without losing a limb or two. Not without anyone's help.

Not without _his_ help.

The redhead in her birthday suit was falling into desperation. But hopelessness was the enemy here and not facing death itself. Losing hope meant dying from within and it was so much worse than getting killed physically. She paid the other prisoners no heed as the red brick building came into view.

_So this is it huh?_ _End of the road? I'm just glad Lisanna didn't get picked._

The people who were ahead of her didn't seem to be bothered at all. And this was when Erza felt jealousy creep inside her veins.

She thought how good it was to be ignorant of what was coming to them. Thought how good it was to know nothing about the fact that they were going to die. The sudden halt of the endless and tiring walk signaled death in the air.

The first batch including the redhead were ordered to enter the gas chamber. The rest of the captives however, were asked to wait until it was their turn.

She took one last gulp of air because the moment she and the others get locked up, the poisonous air would instantly burn their lungs.

Erza was about to step in when one of the soldiers guarding the place called her attention. She knitted her brows but approached the suspicious figure anyway. When she was about to ask what was wrong, she felt a sharp and stinging sensation hit the back of her neck. The heavy blow immediately sent her falling to the ground.

* * *

"Calm down." the blue-haired officer appeared composed on the outside, but it was his inner self that was twisting and rampaging from confusion, worry and desperation. "Now tell me exactly what happened."

The ultramarine removed his jacket and wrapped it delicately around the naked frame of the weeping woman in front of him. He scanned the surrounding area and taking no chances, he asked the silver-haired lady to go along with him and back to his quarters which offered the most privacy they both needed.

The warmth of the room invaded the hysterical lady's senses and eventually, she managed to calm down a bit.

"Now, what was it that you wanted to tell me?"

Blue eyes held green ones in search of help and comfort.

"It's Erza." the two words struck the tattooed officer in a way that Lisanna had expected.

_So he does feel..._

"What about her?" his tone was dripping with a dark tone that the short-haired girl couldn't distinguish it if it was out of anger or care.

"Erza...she...she..." A sudden urge to break into tears was what she felt but her emotions were the least of both their concerns. So she swallowed the lump that was stuck in her throat and bit back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Erza," she tried once more, this time holding his unyielding and undivided attention.

Her voice trembled and the words came stampeding like bulls on the grasslands.

"She got picked."

* * *

Prisoner 19826 thought she was dead. Thought that the darkness enveloping her was the underworld and the reaper was already on the verge of collecting her soul. But right after a soft and familiar voice called out to her, she knew she was still alive.

Tired eyelids peeled open as brown orbs adjusted to the dim lighting. Blue was the first thing that came into view and Erza knew that it was Jellal who had saved her.

Again.

She bolted straight up and wrapped her weary arms around his neck, inhaling his familiar minty scent which livened her persona.

"Jellal," she sighed, relief and comfort following almost immediately. The ultramarine hugged her back with just as much need and fervor as she had given him.

"How did you—"

"Lisanna Strauss." he solemnly brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Lisanna." she whispered breathlessly. Joy consumed her and all she wanted to do was see her friend who was apparently the reason why she was still alive.

"Where is she?" she excitedly asked and assuming she would hear her honey and high-pitched voice and the gentle yet virile arms that would coil their way around her body, it was dead silence that answered right back to her. She turned her head from side to side and from all possible directions, but found no one inside the ultramarine's barracks but themselves.

Jellal didn't meet her gaze, instead he kept his head low and his eyes closed.

"Where is she?" she asked a little louder this time.

Silence.

"Jellal, where is Lisanna?"

Deafening silence.

The pained look on the officer's face made the redhead panic. She was about to lunge out of bed—naked—when two strong hands pinned her to stay put.

"Prisoner 19826 is dead." he announced flatly.

Erza frowned.

"What are you talking about? I'm Prisoner 19826. Let me go, I have to find Lisanna. I have to tell her I'm alright." the male officer shook his head slowly and apologized sincerely.

"She's dead Erza."

"What the hell are you talking about? She didn't get picked! She wasn't there at the extermination camp! I've searched and she was not there! Let go of me! Lisann—"

Jellal gripped her by the arm firmly, catching her attention fully.

"When you got chosen, she came to me." he confessed and Erza stopped thrashing and actually listened for what the German had to say. "I told her we can save you. That there was a way to save you. Only one way to save you."

The redhead didn't like news that was coming.

She didn't like the coming of the truth and the revelation.

What she did was—she stood up and headed towards the door, refusing to listen anymore.

Her hand failed to reach the doorknob when a strong hand pulled her back, dragging her sense of hearing along with the rest of her body. This time, Erza remained still. She didn't know why. She knew she had to leave. Had to get back to work and right after that, see the white-haired lady who—

"She said she was more than willing to, and you know what?" he barked off a bitter laugh.

"She was Prisoner 19326. All I had to do was change the number three to eight. It was perfect. She was a perfect fit." he gazed at her hollow eyes, truth denying to sink into her thoughts. "I told the soldier in charge that he got the wrong prisoner. Told him to double-check the list and showed him right after that the person with me was _Prisoner 19826_. He called out to you and I had to knock you out cold so that you wouldn't know."

He smiled pathetically.

"Because if you did, you wouldn't agree to it."

Adrenaline rushed into her system, forcing her body to act out. Her hand did the pleasure of obeying her will as the palm of her hand hit the ultramarine's cheek.

Hard.

Jellal already figured that this would be her reaction so he didn't block her hand or even stop the relentless assault.

"You let her die?" her voice was quiet and cold like the night after a storm. Jellal saw her trembling and he knew it wasn't from the loss of her friend but the rage from losing someone dear to her.

Now where did he see that same expression?

_This is like a mirror image..._

"You bastard!" Anger and tears hit the ultramarine like a tsunami as her fists pounded onto his chest.

"Why Jellal? Why? She was so young and innocent! And you...you killed her!"

The last part of her statement wasn't supposed to hurt. In fact he had heard that for millions of times, he apparently lost count. Heard words and insults that were much worse than what she had just stated but to him, it felt like a stake was just plunged right at the very core of his heart.

It hurt.

It hurt so much especially because it came from her.

Jellal remained still and let her pound and hit and scratch his body. He was going to take all her anger in. He was willing to take her hatred even if it kills him because she's worth it.

_She's all worth it._

Erza felt her fists ache from punching the rock-hard chest of the ultramarine. She felt that whatever blow she gave him, he sent them back with a force ten times greater than what she had released. He wasn't even budging or flinching from her onslaught.

_Was he so dense because the military had killed his emotions off?_

The redhead slowed down, feeling the sudden power rush drain out of her system.

Jellal closed his eyes.

"Are you done yet?" he softly asked, making sure not to ignite another spark of anger in her.

She snarled back at him and resumed inflicting damage to the SS officer even when she knew her punches had little effect.

Even if everything she did was futile.

"You have ten seconds before I take over." he flatly stated.

_Take over?_ She most certainly didn't like the sound of that. Tears continued to stream down her face and she was sniffling rather to loudly now, her sobs turning into uneven fits of wailing.

"It should have been me! Why did you do that? Why?"

Jellal still didn't answer. He was too busy counting each precious second mentally.

"Why did you do it? Give me a reason!" she landed a rather too powerful blow at his chest that made him move back a little.

"Give me a goddamn answer Jellal—!"

A swift motion sent her lying back on the bed. Erza barely registered that the ultramarine was on top of her and when her nervous system grasped the situation at hand it was only then that she realized that his lips were pressed firmly against hers. The slight movement of his mouth grazing hers had her gasping at his action.

In a slow and agonizing pace, Jellal's lips glided across hers, desperately trying to soothe the pain and hate and rage and other negative emotions flowing inside her. She was about to give in, ready to surrender herself from the bittersweet fantasy that was swimming in her mind for the past weeks when reality kicked back in. She pushed him hard enough to stop the kiss that she kept telling herself was offending but the ultramarine continued ravishing her—biting and licking until finally, she gave in.

The clumsy lip lock turned into something desperate, hungry—carnal. It was as if the kiss was the only thing keeping both of them alive and secluded from the harsh and cold reality which was life. Tongues danced as impatient hands ventured through dangerous waters. The redhead kissed back with all her emotions packed up in that little action. Heat spread out through her body like wildfire when Jellal planted open-mouthed kisses along her jawline and eventually, down the stretch of her neck. A wanton sound rumbled out of her and her nimble appendages tangled along the soft spikes of cerulean. Soon, Jellal found his way back to her lips as he closed the distance once more.

Erza told herself that she was _mad_. _Mad_ at him for letting Lisanna take her place. _Mad_ at him for letting Lisanna die. But how could she stay mad at him when he kept on saving her? When he kept on drowning her in a passionate and dreamy state that he was the only one capable of doing?

She was _madly_ in love with him.

Jellal broke the kiss when he realized that they both needed air. The two of them were now panting hard, finding it hard to focus on anything but each other. His smoldering green eyes shattered all the redhead's unnecessary feelings aside.

He sent her over the edge.

How could she hate him? How could she? When he had this unbearable effect on her?

"So unfair..." she sobbed, preventing another wave of tears from slipping off of her eyes. "Why do you keep doing this to me?"

Jellal's features softened. As he breathed out, he pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. There were no boisterous declarations of love or direct and flamboyant announcement of his affection. Just that small and meaningful gesture. This was Jellal after all, and this was him at his best.

His feelings were best expressed in silence. In the deafening echoes of tranquility. And Erza knew this, she knew this from the very start and she didn't mind it, because his actions spoke every bit of the word she longed for.

Erza remained still under his scorching presence and recalled the silver-haired girl's smile and words.

_Because what you both feel and share is beautiful._

She pulled him down, deepening the kiss he initiated. Only this time, it wasn't as sloppy as the first one nor was it rushed like the second one.

It was passionate and promising.

A wonderful rhythmic movement of two people who share the same feelings.

She withdrew a little, letting him rub his nose against hers, savoring the intimacy both of them longed for. She looked at him with a serious and dreamy expression at the same time.

Lisanna's voice echoed in her mind like soft chimes during a windy day.

_And I'd do anything to keep that alive._

"Jellal...let's get out of this place...together."

* * *

**A/N: Well did you guys like that? :) Next one's the epic escape and the final chapter! Read and review people! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: This is the final chapter people. :) Errors everywhere! **

**WARNING: RAW FILE**

* * *

**In A Heartbeat**

—because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU

**Final Duet**

Erza breathed in the crisp scent of mint and earth, slowly relishing the warmth and heat that radiated from the man tangled up with her and the sheets. She didn't know why or how they shared something which could be properly coined as intimate when she clearly remembered the tears and high-pitched voices. The redhead could barely recall the little details and was just glad that she was able to get a piece of her own heaven even though the act was sort of a spur of the moment.

She looked up, careful not to shift even slightly, as a minute movement could wake the sleeping soldier.

Her eyes twinkled with delight when the calmness became apparent on his face. The ultramarine looked so much more innocent and tranquil with his eyes closed. The even rise and fall of his chest, the soft puffing sound when he breathed and the adorable—in her opinion—red tattoo on his cheek made Erza feel giddy and light.

She pecked the tip of his nose and the man once lost in his dream world slipped back to reality. Hazy olive eyes took in the rich color of red generously.

Jellal pulled her closer and eventually earned a satisfied sigh from the woman wrapped in his arms.

"Good morning." he mumbled, releasing a yawn before planting his lips on her forehead. She returned his greeting by locking herself deeper into his embrace.

"Slept well?" she asked, her fingers playing on the planes of his chest.

"Mmm, best I had in years." he stared at her.

Jellal admired her scarlet locks sprawled like waterfall on his bed. Liked the perfect contrast of her pale skin flushed against his own flesh, disregarding the scars and all the imperfections that the cruel world had done to her. Loved how her bronze orbs would look at him as if he was the only one that mattered.

_God she's beautiful..._he thought.

"About last night," she started and Jellal could only raise an eyebrow as he was busy twirling the strands of her hair along the length of his finger.

"You want to go at it again?" his smirk and teasing tone made Erza snort and roll her eyes instantly, although her vibrant smile told him that she was amused.

"Not that," she tapped his chest gently. "It's about what I've said."

Jellal held her gaze for a long second and brushed her long tresses aside.

"Escape Monowitz?" his voice sounded sullen and the redhead could feel a pit forming in the hollow of her stomach.

_This is it. It all comes down to this point._

She knew, and she knew that it was inevitable.

All she could do now was hope and pray that Jellal, the officer who had saved her more than once, redeemed the spark of life within her, Jellal the man who saw her as more than a piece of the puzzle, and became one with her had to make a tough choice.

It was either her or his country.

His choice, that she didn't know.

However she wasn't going to regret the wonderful night they've just shared or even hate him for that particular event.

Not now.

Not ever.

Jellal looked into the depths of determined hazelnut eyes before smiling sincerely and kissing her one final time.

"Let's do it. Together."

* * *

A pair of calloused hands clasped together tightly as lips pressed together to form a thin line.

This wasn't to be expected.

Especially from a high-ranked officer and _the_ surgeon of the Schutzstaffel.

A simple miscalculation could lead to the demise of the whole German army.

He double-checked—triple-checked even—the bodies that were delivered to the morgue for his experiments.

Alas, among the pile of dead bodies, she wasn't there.

The girl with the scarlet hair.

And it irritated him.

It confused him.

A million questions swimming in his head, like: How did she manage to survive the selection? How come her body wasn't with the rest of the dead prisoners?

He scratched his chin deliberately and rubbed his temples to calm himself down.

_There are about one hundred more bodies that aren't delivered to me. She might be there. No, she IS there._

He reached for a scalpel and started dissecting a body of a female.

He smiled, the annoyance getting wiped off from his face when he saw the rich and exotic color of the dead woman's hair.

Silver.

He gouged her eyes out and loved how the orbs—the size of ping pong balls—floated sheepishly inside the jar full of thick, green liquid.

A very beautiful shade of blue indeed.

His admiration was stopped abruptly when a person suddenly appeared behind once closed doors.

The same shark grin and blond locks gleamed sharply under the bright lights of the said room.

"Zancrow, what is it now?" he asked impatiently and disposed of the lady's body by dumping it to the floor unceremoniously.

"I suddenly had the urge to visit you." the red-eyed officer inspected jar after jar and body after body, fascinated by the presence of emptiness, void and death.

"I am busy. Do get out." the old man snapped back and pulled him away from his treasured collections.

"Someone's having a bad day." came Zancrow's teasing remark. Usually, the surgeon was the most calm of all the officers and seeing as the old man was literally throwing high notes in the air, it just sparked up the blond's sadistic side even more.

"Hmph, it's because I'll still wait for another hour to get the body of a certain prisoner." he explained, all the while cleaning up his medical tools.

"Hoh? You actually found someone interesting to dissect?"

"Ja. The prisoner with the scarlet hair."

Zancrow's eyebrows knitted right after the statement was delivered. He crossed his arms and asked with a serious tone.

"Prisoner 19526?"

The surgeon shook his head and tossed the medical gloves into the trash bin.

"She was Prisoner 19826 if I recall correctly. A prisoner from—"

"—Monowitz? Fair, of medium built, bruised arms and brown eyes?" his voice was trembling now, as if a ghost had just slipped past him.

Zero could only nod slowly as the fellow officer hit every detail right on.

"You know her?" he asked suddenly interested in the topic.

"Of course, she's dead. And she was delivered here about a month ago."

To Zancrow, nothing made sense.

The surgeon shook his head once more, clearly remembering that he had not received a dead body that fit the same description as Zancrow had stated.

"Nein."

To Zancrow, that was all that he needed—Zero's confirmation.

_She was supposed to be dead and yet why does this old man tells me he had only seen her during the selection?_

He connected the dots together right from back when he ordered the female to be strapped to the poles and freeze to death to the time when Jellal mocked him of his short stay at the labor camp.

He turned on his heel and dashed through the door when everything fell into place.

He was going to go back to Monowitz and this time, he won't leave until the truth comes out.

* * *

"Are you sure this is alright?" Erza twirled a little to test if the clothes she wore were proper and comfortable enough.

"Of course, and they aren't even going to notice it's you." Jellal dressed the redhead in accordance to the German army's uniform and admired how she looked.

Feisty and sexy.

"Here put this on." he finished the getup by donning the crusher cap from the top of her head to conceal her most striking and apparent asset which were her crimson-colored tresses. Jellal tied them up high above her head and made sure that no strands were spilling out.

"Listen Erza, once we get out of the compound do not leave my side. Understand?" he checked her expression beneath the mysterious shade that the cap provided.

She merely nodded and lifted her head high enough to hold his gaze.

"When we get out, what happens next?" her words held so many promises and possibilities that the ultramarine couldn't help but answer.

"We'll live the life we've always wanted."

So far, the halls of the compound proved to be no nuisance to them. They had easily slipped away from prying eyes and suspicious glances thanks to Jellal's smooth and calm talk and presence. Erza was also doing good. Making sure that the way she walked and moved was just the same as any ordinary German soldier would. It was right after Jellal ordered the soldiers who acted as spotters and watchers to simulate an emergency drill that Erza felt freedom within her grasp.

_This is it. I'm getting out of this hellhole. With Jellal._

She reached out to grab his hand as they made their way towards the labor camp's exit.

Her heart thumped with excitement and that was when a gunshot sent the ultramarine down to the rocky ground.

Erza screamed.

* * *

"JELLAL YOU BASTARD!"

The ultramarine was writhing in pain, clutching his injured shoulder and stopping the blood from gushing out. But instead of remaining limp on the ground, he stood up quickly when he heard another click from a familiar tool—the revolver. The bullet whizzed past his cheek as Jellal barely avoided the shot when he sharply jumped to his right. He dashed towards the figure who nearly impaled him and fought back like the product of the military he was.

"ZANCROW!" he gave a hard blow to the stomach that sent the blond crippling to the ground. Jellal immediately turned to get back to Erza who was now rushing to his aid, but the yellow-haired demon grabbed the ultramarine's foot and sent his tumbling to the rocky soil. Both of them were down, and both were struggling to get up. When Jellal managed to grab Zancrow by the collar, he locked his arms around his neck and the blond was thrashing wildly and got his throat crushed at the action. Erza nearly made it to Jellal when all of a sudden, a horde of soldiers came running back to the field with alarm and vigor visible on their faces.

_We're going to get caught._ she thought, desperation racing in her veins.

"Erza!" Jellal called out to her. "Run now! While you still can!"

"Not without you!" she yelled back and in an attempt to help Jellal subdue the yellow-haired officer, she tried hitting him but failed to do so when the crimson-eyed demon kicked her back.

The soldiers were filling the empty field now, and the redhead staggered to get up and assist Jellal once more.

"Erza get out of here while you still can!" Jellal yelled, keeping Zancrow locked in his grip even when he thrashed and scratched and bit.

"No! I won't—"

"Yes you will!"

"But—!"

"GO! NOW! WHILE I HOLD THEM BACK!"

And so, with his final order, Erza made the hardest decision in her life.

Jellal saw his Scarlet fleeting away as she danced in the wind. Ah, when was the last time did he feel this sort of feeling?

The feeling of freedom.

He could feel all the hit and punches and kicks thrown at him by Zancrow and the soldiers surrounding him. He could feel the pain and the blood spilling out of his body. He watched through bloodied vision as the last speck of red disappeared into the distance.

He smiled.

_Scarlet...the color of her hair...that way I wouldn't forget._

She didn't regret it.

She didn't regret the fact that she turned her back on him. Didn't regret the fact that she left him all alone only to be beaten by the soldiers who aided the blond officer. Didn't regret the fact that she didn't look back even once.

Because if she stopped right now, she knew Lisanna's death would be in vain. She knew that all the efforts Jellal had done would go down the drain.

So she chose to run.

She ran and ran until she felt the pair of hunter green eyes slowly closing.

Erza didn't know why, but she never cried.

She never shed a single tear.

The only thing she did was speak his name over and over like a broken mantra as she travelled the path of the endless road before her.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

**End**

* * *

**A/N: In A Heartbeat is now officially over. (Awww) Will be working of CEAPR! Now now, I know the ending was sort of vague but that is the fun part because I'll leave the ending to you guys. Did Jellal really die? Did Erza manage to escape? or was she caught and tortured to death?**

**:D**

**Until next time!**


End file.
